


Bashir Program Golf

by Eve_Louise (Stregatrek)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Julian has really sketchy morals, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, improper use of holodecks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:04:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stregatrek/pseuds/Eve_Louise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew there would be a day when the regret wasn't worth it, but right now it was all he had to keep him sane and well functioning on some days. He called them "Bashir Program Golf" followed by a different number for each version. It didn't talk much. He didn't need it to. He had the real Garak for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bashir Program Golf

Sometimes he'd head to Quark's just after one of their lunches, slip up to the bar and ask for one of his latest isolinear rods and 15 minutes in the holosuite. After lunch it was usually number one or fifteen, either the one where he leaned across the table at the replimat to kiss him in wonder or the one where they argued themselves into a secluded corner and one decided to silence the other with a particularly passionate kiss. He never could decide which he liked better, he longed for them both so badly.  


He called them "Bashir Program Golf" followed by a different number for each version.  


He knew he'd come to regret it, but right now it was all he had to keep him sane and well functioning on some days. Like the day he saw Garak on the way to work, engaged in conversation with a customer as he unlocked his shop for the day, and Bashir wanted nothing more than to stop and say hello as well. The frustration of the simple yet unattainable desire scratched at the back of his mind throughout his shift, and he sighed as he gave into it the only way he could.  


When it was time for his lunch break he excused himself and went to Quark's, leaning over the bar to ask Rom to fetch him Bashir Program Golf Three and give him just ten minutes. Rom complied with his usual stammering efficiency, and moments later Bashir was reenacting his "on the way to work" morning routine, with just enough time that when he passed Garak's shop he was able to step inside.  


"Good morning, my dear, what can I do for you?" The tailor turned with one of his small smiles, and Julian grinned back, closing the distance between them with just a few steps.  


"I just wanted to say hello before work," he said honestly, slipping his hands around Garak's waist and pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth as the Cardassian's hands rose to grip his elbows softly. "I was just walking by, and I saw you talking to someone- have I ever told you that I like the way you nod? It's odd, I know, but there's something in the way you do it." He shook his head at himself, basking in Garak's fond expression, something he could enjoy any time he wanted thanks to state of the art holoprogramming and Quark's loose morals. And his own, he reminded himself.  


"How very flattering, my dear," Garak said, smoothing the backs of his fingers down Julian's cheek. "Do you expect a busy day?"  


Julian captured Garak's hand in his own, pressing a kiss to the palm. "Not particularly, no, barring accident and will of the prophets," he smiled.  


"Then perhaps you'd care to join me for lunch?"  


Julian grinned slightly and kissed him softly one more time. "My dear Garak, I'm doing just that," he squeezed the hand he held. "Computer, end program."  


The simulation dissolved, and he headed back downstairs for a quick sandwich before returning to work, feeling simultaneously more peaceful and less satisfied than he had before entering the holosuite.  
* 

After an incredibly long day, not so much dire straights as digital paperwork mountains, he stopped by and asked for program eleven and a half hour, during which he laid on the sofa in their quarters with his head in Garak's lap, listening to music and occasionally making a comment to one another, some witty observation with no sharp edges.  
* 

There was an accident with one of the airlocks, ten people were injured, but no one died. Sisko complimented Bashir for that, but the doctor grimly felt that it was due to the Prophets more than he. There had been a lot of chaos, a lot of running and shouting, and Bashir had wondered all the time he worked whether Garak was alive or dead. And when it was over he stopped by his friend's shop and got the smile and playful reassurance he needed, set a date for their next lunch together and a book to discuss, and he nearly smiled himself into oblivion but in the end Garak politely herded him out so he could get work done and Julian, still feeling disquieted, went to Quark's to ask for his shortest record time- Golf thirteen and two minutes.  


There was chaos, running, fires burning on the promenade, everything he had thought probable for a disaster scenario onboard DS9. And he was rushing through it all, treating people, and he came face-to-face with Garak as if by chance, just long enough to grab the Cardassian's hand and say, "I love you, be safe," before hurrying away toward another victim needing his help.  
* 

He only had one program where the hologram spoke more than one sentence at a time, not wanting to allow himself to pretend even for a second that this was really his Garak. This one he normally only used when the real Garak had been particularly flirtatious and particularly evasive at the same time. The teasing, the hints at giving him what he wanted so badly, and at the same time seeming to promise that he'd never have it. After conversations like these he could spend an hour in the holodeck, listening to it chatter at him about menial things like shop running and fabric design, letting him trace his fingers over the pattern of its scales, looking at him with undisguised love.  
* 

There were a lot of things about Julian he could cite as reasons he wasn't a good person, but these holodeck programs were the one he felt the most guilty over. Sometimes in the middle of a discussion with the real Garak he would feel the wrongness of what he did settle in his chest next to his otherwise light heart, pressing on their banter and suffocating the ease so that he spoke in nervous stutters quite unlike those borne of his need to say everything at once.  


If Garak noticed, he didn't ask, not that Julian would know what to say if he did. Alone in his quarters later, he'd bury his face in his hands, thoughts swamped in self-recriminations. He might get as far as deleting one or two (or on one drunken night full of self pity and disgust, five) but every time he stopped, thinking about the relative innocence of what he did within the programs. It wasn't as though Garak were perfect either, he told himself. Given the Cardassian's apparent delight at being unpleasantly surprised, perhaps he'd even be amused. Julian wasn't sure that would be better.  



End file.
